


Bar Talk/Pub Talk

by CracklPop



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Smallville, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Drinking & Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CracklPop/pseuds/CracklPop
Summary: Clark Kent and Harry Potter have a talk about destiny, public opinion, and those infuriating nemeses Lex Luthor and Draco Malfoy.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 71





	Bar Talk/Pub Talk

**Author's Note:**

> I've been messing around with this one for a while, and I don't think much more is going to happen. It's time to let it go.

Two dark-haired, green-eyed men sat down at a bar somewhere in the Muggle world on Earth, each with a scowl on his handsome face. 

“That _blighter_ ,” muttered the shorter of the two before lifting a finger to summon the bartender and saying, “A firewhi—I mean, a whiskey, please. Whatever kind is, er, most popular. Cheers.” 

“I’ll take the same,” the man sitting next to him told the bartender, then added in a bitter undertone, “Not that it’ll make any difference.” 

“Bad day?” the other whiskey-drinker asked, sounding sympathetic. 

“Yeah, you could say that.” There was a pause. “Have you ever known someone who made you so mad you just want to…to…I don’t know. He makes me _so angry_. And I have practice holding my temper! I have to, doing what I do.”

“I think I do know what you mean, mate.” There was a pause, as the first man watched his drinking companion down two shots of cheap, strong whiskey in a row to no visible effect. “I’m Harry, by the way. I’m sorry to hear about your day.”

“Clark. It’s nice to meet you. And thanks.” It was Clark’s turn to pause, running his eyes down Harry’s face with a frown. “You know, you look like you’ve had a rough day yourself, man.” 

“Yeah,” Harry replied shortly. “You could say that.” 

“Work? Or personal?” 

“Personal,” said Harry. 

“Ah,” Clark said, nodding in sympathy. “Love. I hear you there, pal.” He took another two shots of whiskey and his hands remained as steady as they’d been when he walked into the bar. “Y’know how some people say their lovers are their best friends?”

Harry just laughed. “I’ve heard that. I tried it. Didn’t take.”

“Same. Didn’t take. Why is it the difficult ones are the hardest to let go of?” Clark shook his head and stared into his fifth drink. Harry began to wonder if they shouldn’t just buy a few bottles. 

“They say the opposite of love isn’t hate,” Harry offered. “They say it’s apathy. If you didn’t still care for…er, this person, you probably wouldn’t be so upset.”

“Is that your situation, too?” Clark asked. 

“Hating my lover?” Harry thought about it. “I don’t hate the bloody git, I just hate the _things_ he does. He’s not a heartless, irredeemable bastard, so why does he have to act like one?”

Clark stared, transfixed. “ _Exactly_ ,” he breathed, gulping another drink. 

_-Later-_

“His father, though.”

“Yeah. A right bastard. Impossible standards, emotionally withholding, endlessly manipulative. It’d fuck anybody up.”

“And someone brilliant and sensitive and insecure…”

“Heartbreaking.”

“Still…nobody _made him_ —” Harry said _become a Deatheater_ at the same time Clark said _turn to villainy._

They exchanged long looks and nodded, remembered disappointment sitting heavily on both faces. 

_-Later Still-_

“It’s just like, what did they expect. Really, what did they bloody expect? That I’d be _gagging_ to lay my life down for them? Like I wasn’t allowed to have a few doubts, or a few moments of, Gosh, maybe I _don’t_ want to die at seventeen to save everyone from a crazy wizard they should have dealt with twenty fucking years ago.” Harry waved their second bottle of whiskey around, flushed with renewed ire. 

“Yeah,” Clark agreed, nodding vigorously, “yeah, that’s totally understandable, man. Do you think I _wanted_ to leave my entire fu-frickin’ planet and come be a super-person here? I was scared to have sex, did you know that? I thought, What if my super strength gets out of hand in the…the throes of passion or whatever? Did anyone on Krypton think to supply some kinda…sex guide for abandoned Kryptonian teenagers? No, let me tell you, Harry, they did not. I had to figure it all out myself. Super jizz. That was all me. And that was just being a teenager! By the time I was able to hold down a real job, I was working full time as a reporter and still _saving the goddamn world_. I mean, sure, people said thank you here and there, but maybe what I wanted was just to watch one football game all the way through! Just _one game_ without a killer tornado or a sentient computer or a sun-powered super villain. One game.” 

_-Later Than That-_

“…just so pretty when he’s all worked up about the electrons or whatever.”

“I thought you said he ran a corporation?” Harry asked, confused.

“Oh, he does lots of stuff. Science. Business. Unlawful experimentation. Often on himself.”

“Oh, boy. The self-sabotaging tendencies. Tell me about it.”

“Yours is the same, huh?” Clark sighed. 

“I know his heart is in the right place. When we work, we work _so well_ together. He gets all soft and sweet and his prickles are charming instead of awful. He knows when I need to be myself and not the Chosen One or the Savior of the Wizarding World or part of the Golden Trio—”

“—that’s a really terrible band name, bro—”

“—and remember that Harry James Potter is, in addition to all those other things, a regular bloke with hobbies and…and a _life_ that’s about more than giving to other people. He makes necessary self-preservation feel okay. Nobody else does that.”

“Hm,” Clark observed, peeling the label off one of the bottles they’d consumed. “I get it. Lex doesn’t want Superman, he wants that dumb hick kid who was one of his first real friends. The one who didn’t care about the Luther name. The one who’ll watch whatever weird movies Lex wants to watch and then listen to him talk about the history of cinema for way too long without falling asleep. Lex isn’t…he isn’t _afraid_ of me. He isn’t in awe of me. He just…he just wants _me_.” 

“It’s rare,” said Harry. 

“Too rare.” 

“But that doesn’t mean he should get away with blackmailing top ministry members to vote his way so he can win another contract for the Malfoy Muggle-Relations Firm!” 

“No. And if Lex thinks he can continue designing more death rays _right under my nose_ , so help me, I’ll—”

They both took a deep breath and looked at each other. 

“I’ll be very angry,” Clark finished with a rueful grin. 

“Very angry,” Harry echoed.

“But I’ll still go home to him every night.”

“Couldn’t have it any other way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, did the italics get out of hand in this one.


End file.
